Legally Bound: Pregnant with my Rival's Baby

Chapter 24

The rhythmic tapping of my fingers on the keyboard filled the silent office, a feeble attempt to drown out the thoughts swirling in my head. It was well past midnight, the New York skyline a glittering backdrop to my self-imposed exile in the office. I'd been here for hours, poring over case files, drafting motions, doing anything and everything to keep my mind off Sophia.

Sophia. Even thinking her name sent a jolt through me, memories of our night together flooding back unbidden. The softness of her skin under my fingertips. The breathy way she'd whispered my name. The look in her eyes, vulnerable and wanting, as we'd lain tangled together afterward.

I leaned back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose as I tried to push the images away. It was no use. Every detail of that night was etched into my mind with painful clarity. The way her body had responded to my touch, the way she'd moaned and writhed beneath me, had driven me to the brink of madness. I had needed to maintain control, to stop her from touching me, because I knew that if she did, I would lose all semblance of restraint. And I couldn't afford that. Not with Sophia. Not with everything at stake.

I shifted in my seat, the ache of arousal making it impossible to focus. The memory of her gasps, her cries, echoed in my ears, and I felt myself getting hard again. My hand drifted to my lap, the need to relieve the pressure becoming overwhelming. But I stopped myself, clenching my fist. I couldn't give in to this. Not here, not now.

"f**k," I muttered under my breath, the word a harsh release in the otherwise silent room.

But the more I tried to ignore it, the more persistent the memories became. The way her body had fit perfectly against mine, the heat of her breath on my neck, the way she'd whispered "Yes, Sir" in that breathless, needy voice. I groaned, running a hand through my hair, the frustration and arousal mixing into a potent cocktail that made it impossible to think straight. Sophia had slipped away before I'd woken up, leaving me alone with the regret of not holding her a little longer. Her absence was a stark reminder of the boundary we both knew we shouldn't have crossed. Where was she now? What did she think of it?

I stood up abruptly, pacing the length of my office in a vain attempt to shake off the desire that clung to me like a second skin. How could one night turn everything upside down? How could she, my supposed rival, become the only thing I could think about?

A knock at my door startled me out of my reverie. I looked up to see Sarah, my assistant, hovering in the doorway with a concerned expression.

"Mr. Hawthorne? I'm heading out for the night. Is there anything else you need before I go?"

I glanced at the clock, surprised to see how late it had gotten. "No, thank you, Sarah. You should have gone home hours ago."

She shifted uncomfortably. "I was worried about you, sir. You've been here every night this week, working later and later. Is everything okay?"

Her genuine concern caught me off guard. When had I become the kind of boss that inspired worry rather than fear? "Everything's fine," I assured her, forcing a smile. "Just a lot of work to catch up on."

Sarah nodded, though she didn't look entirely convinced. "Alright. Oh, and Ms. Chen called earlier. She said she's been trying to reach you about the appointment next week?"

I felt a pang of guilt. I'd been avoiding Sophia's calls, telling myself it was for the best. That some distance would help clear my head, help me regain the control I'd so thoroughly lost that night at my apartment.

"Thank you, Sarah. I'll give her a call tomorrow."

As Sarah left, I slumped back in my chair, the weight of my actions – or rather, inactions – settling heavily on my shoulders. I knew I was being a coward. Knew that Sophia deserved better than radio silence from the father of her child. But every time I thought about calling her, about hearing her voice, I was paralyzed by the fear of what I might say. What I might reveal.

Because the truth was, I was falling for Sophia Chen. Hard and fast and completely against my better judgment. And that terrified me more than any high-stakes court case ever could.

I turned back to my computer, determined to lose myself in work for a few more hours. But as I stared at the screen, the words blurred together, replaced by images of Sophia. Her fierce determination in the courtroom. Her vulnerability in the doctor's office. The way she'd looked at me that night, like I was something precious and terrifying all at once.

"Dammit," I muttered, pushing away from my desk. This wasn't working. I needed air, needed to clear my head.

I grabbed my jacket and headed for the elevator, my mind racing. As I stepped out onto the street, the cool night air hit me, a welcome respite from the stifling atmosphere of my office. I started walking, with no real destination in mind, just needing to move.

My feet, seemingly with a mind of their own, led me to a familiar neighborhood. I realized with a start that I was only a block away from Sophia's apartment building. I stopped, my heart racing. Should I go to her? Apologize for my silence, try to explain?

But what would I say? Sorry I've been avoiding you, I'm just... confused by these unfamiliar feelings? That I might be experiencing something I can't quite define?

The word 'love' flitted through my mind, unbidden and unwelcome. I pushed it away, refusing to acknowledge its presence. This couldn't be that, could it? Sure, I felt drawn to her, wanted to see her smile, but that was normal, right? Just friends looking out for each other.

I recalled seeing her last night, the slight curve of her belly just starting to be visible with our baby. It had stirred something in me, a mix of emotions I couldn't quite place. Protective, maybe? That made sense - she was in a vulnerable state, after all. And if I felt a flicker of something else, something warmer, well... that was probably just my imagination.

I told myself the racing of my heart was from the stress of the situation, nothing more. The desire to be near her was purely out of concern. And if my fingers itched to reach out, to offer comfort through touch, that was just basic human empathy.

No, this couldn't be love. It was too soon, too complicated. I was just acting on my hormones. Anything else was simply my mind playing tricks on me. Wasn't it?

I shook my head, trying to dislodge the thought. This was ridiculous. I was Derek Hawthorne, for crying out loud. I didn't do love. I didn't do vulnerability. I won cases, made partner, and kept everyone at arm's length. It was safer that way. Easier.

But as I stood there, staring up at the building where Sophia slept, where our child grew inside her, I couldn't help but wonder if easier was really better.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, startling me. I pulled it out, my heart skipping a beat when I saw Sophia's name on the screen. It was a text:

"Derek, I know you're busy, but we need to talk about the appointment. And... everything else. Please call me when you can."

I stared at the message, feeling a mix of longing and fear. I wanted to call her. Wanted to hear her voice, to apologize for being such an ass, to tell her that night had meant everything to me.

But the fear won out. Instead of calling, I typed out a quick response:

"Sorry, been swamped with work. I'll make the appointment. Talk details later."

I hit send before I could change my mind, hating myself for the coldness of the message. But it was better this way, I told myself. Better to keep things professional, distant. It was the only way to protect myself. To protect her. To protect our child from the mess I would inevitably make of things if I let myself feel too much.

As I turned to head back to the office, I caught sight of my reflection in a*****e window. With a scowl of disgust, I noticed my slightly loosened tie and a stray lock of hair. Unacceptable. I smoothed everything back into place with practiced precision, my jaw tightening as I stared at my reflection. There - that was more like it. The Derek Hawthorne that commanded respect and struck fear into the hearts of competitors and colleagues alike.

I straightened my spine, feeling the familiar mantle of power settle over me like armor. Work. That's what mattered. That's what had always mattered, and I'd be damned if I let some fleeting emotions derail the empire I'd worked so hard to build.

My lips curled into a cold smirk as I thought of the deals waiting on my desk, the mergers I'd orchestrate, the lesser men I'd crush beneath my heel. This - this was who I truly was. Not some lovesick fool pining after a woman. I was Derek f*****g Hawthorne, and it was time I remembered that.

With each step back toward the office, I felt my resolve harden. I'd bury myself in work, in the thrill of the deal, in the rush of victory. Anything else was a distraction, a weakness. And I had no room for weakness in my life. I had a legacy to build, and nothing - not even her - would stand in my way.